Affection
in an unfriendly snowy city
dear affection is
sorely missed
a room with furniture
varnished
accentuated with fresh
white magnolia on
a vase
apples and peaches
in a basket
on an island of light
in the kitchen
still there is no
affection
a vacant room speaks
and looks
there is something missing still
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Justine
You keep your pretty girls
Chained inside the dungeon
And diamonds and pearls
You keep them a'coming
Give them all of your affection
You keep your naughty boys
Locked inside the kitchen
And when they make a noise
A swish of your hand keeps them
Screaming out for your affection
I don't know the why's or wherefores
I don't what's wrong or right
I just know at night
You give them all of your affection
You keep your servants down
Swinging from the gallows
And when they come round
Oh you smile and you say hello
Give them all of your affection
You give them all of your affection
You give them all of your affection
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0068 The Connoisseur (2)
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?
even the doorhandle, gently turned,
seems to speak a message
before the room entered, the first breath taken
of the room’s own air
and on the table, the grey-green vase seems
to be the host; the silent messenger: the furniture
somehow eternal in its order; every line and curve
within the room speaking of some
divine geometry; the shaded sunlight seems
to fall on tiptoe, touch in silent praise;
the air, to be refined; and the silence –
what does the silence say unspoken
as if it holds some god-smiled word,
some solemn laughter, about what
is there and is not there, has made
of this room, this ordinary room,
a shrine where one can worship without form
oneself?
the vase too holds itself both
open and reserved; its perfect curves
the subtle decisions of a history
of centuries, of generations
of human hands; of things made
for oneself, for others, for all else
where all else is known;
silent the vase; the room full of its sound.
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?
you; moving forward with respectful quiet step
to touch this grey-green
Chinese vase
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The White Room
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
Spa noo na naho
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spa noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na nehhey
Spa noo na nehhey
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
[more spa na noo ne na noo things]
Talk to me, talk to me
If you want to know the things we see
Then step inside our skins
The white room, the white room
We spin, we turn, watch and wait
As the world just creeps on bye
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
Talk to me, talk to me
Far below, a small boat sails,
Catching fish from the sea.
The white room, the white room
We climb the mountain,
Feel the wind,
We climbed to touch the stars.
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds are silent
Today is a stupid day
Since you are away home
Birds were silent today
I want them to be noisy all the time
I hope they don’t fly away
They should always sing for us
In this old city
There is nothing left
Except memories
Actually I am filled with the memories of you
Your face is like a city for me
A city full of joy
A city which heals me when I am wounded
A city which accommodates me
Whenever you are away from me
I am frightened
Frightened like a baby in the dark
For me, my love you are my light
Sometimes I hate this room
For it is too small to occupy my love
When we are in this room
Locked in and locked together
I always look at the street light opposite to us
It’s like an old man searching for something
Sometimes it looks at me
With it’s fainted eyes
But it always smiles at you, my dear
Oh my dear please comeback soon
Birds start singing.
poem by Pramod Sen
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Vacant Space
this is the vacant space
of my room, you may come
this is the vacant hour
you may barge and talk simply talk
this is the vacant lot of my being
you may build your home
this is vacant
fill it with space, drag your hours here,
start watering the roses in your garden
beside your house
this is a vacant hole in my ear
talk simply talk
i am always listening
this is my vacant line, please fill in the missing
word
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vacant
This room of my love is vacant and,
It is well swept waiting for you;
So you can be affected by it when you do visit.
When the economy becomes very bad,
We all compare the prices of items before buying;
And like the wedding dresses sold around us,
But the room of my love is very vacant.
Of small sizes and big sizes,
Water me with your love is you can;
Because this room is vacant and,
I am waiting for your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The White Room
(SpringfieldVallance)
I can see her at her windows watching,
locked away inside her skin,
I can see her but I can't get to her, she won't come out,
and she won't let me into
The white room (she's living in)
Lying alone til she comes undone
In the white room, she burns for the real thing.
But it won't come.
In her head is the same obsession
and all the bottles and pills won't heal her heart.
She heard his last confession
and every word just tears her apart
In the white room (locked away)
doing time till her time is done
In the white room there's so much to say
but the words won't come.
Come back to the land of the living,
when you gonna break the chain,
there's so much too much that you're leaving
and you're never gonna stop the rain
In the white room.
waiting for the call that never comes
in the white room, she awaits.
Look at something long enough you'll find,
that the splinters and the cracks begin to show,
I'll be the first in line when the walls start falling
and she lets go of
The white room (it's late)
living alone only makes you numb
In the white room she burns for the real thing
but it won't come
In the white room (she's living in) I think its time
that you're time is done,
In the white room she burns
In the white room (it's late)
lying alone till she comes undone
In the white room she awaits
In the white room
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ahh An Evening Of Poetry
an evening of poetry
goes beyond words and images
beyond thought
beyond what we care about
darkness fingers itself in the room
when you turn off the light
moans suppressed
like a poem restrained from a loud reading
because
something is so beautiful
and someone
tiptoes
not to destroy
the arrangement of the furniture
too careful
not to break a code
of the white porcelain
one speaks sub rosa
in whispers because love is too private
to savor.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Apples, Peaches, Bananas & Pears
Apples, peaches, bananas and pears
I love you, girl, now thats the truth
I need you
Dont be cruel, dont be cruel
Give me just a little help and to show how much I care
I bring you apples, peaches, bananas and pears
Run to me
Girl dont wait to long
And youll see
I wont do you wrong
Promise me no matter what
Forever youll be there
Ill bring you apples, peaches, bananas and pears
Ive said all I can today, girl
Thats the way I am
Take it for what its worth,
Throw the rest into the sun
Give me you
Girl, thats all I ask
Please be true
All I wants a love to last
Ill give it all back to you
And just to prove Im fair
I bring you apples, peaches, bananas and pears
Whoa!
I love you, girl, now thats the truth
I need you
Dont be cruel, dont be cruel
Give me just a little help
And to show how much I care
I bring you apples, peaches, bananas and pears
Apples, peaches, bananas and pears
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dream Home
My dream home would be a log home in the city
Downstairs would be the kitchen with the laundryroom in it
And a storage area
Also there would be a family room with a living room
The log home would have 4 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms
In the hall of the log home would be the linen closset
At the front of the log home there would be the stone driveway
But at the back of the log home there would be the indoor garden so that We could use it all year round
The floor in the log home would be wood
And the walls in the log home would be beige
There would be Ikea furniture inside of the log home
Also the neighbourhood would be a well established neighbourhood
But very quiet indeed
Not too much traffic
The parks nearby would be very sophisticated with colorful
Flowers and beautiful trees
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-57
Campbell's Magnolia(Magnolia campbelli)
Dwarf Magnolia(Cempaka Telur, Magnolia coco)
Temple Magnolia(Magnolia doltsopa)
Banana Shrub(Magnolia figo)
Magnolia(Southern magnolia, Magnolia grandiflora)
Egg Magnolia(Magnolia liliifera)
Lily Magnolia(Magnolia lilliflora)
Saucer Magnolia(Magnolia x soulangiana)
Disparity is not His intention
For creation all beauty adorned
Painting different here and there
Passion for His colourful creation
So is Magnolia big and florescent
Champak white and yellow hale here
Cream and pink there purplish pale
Leaves large elliptic, oblong, obovate
Born are big in blossoms dignified
For His praises glorious colourful
Born are dwarf fragrant strong high
For His praises vast wide in demand
So not atall disparity His intention
Even Temple Magnolia can ascertain
On par all Himalayan with the southern
Magnolias pretty beauty for His creation
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Room in the Heart
The apartment of the heart
A reserved room of vacant
Every day clean at night
Close the door and switch off light
Somebody wants to occupy
Allowed not me by locked key
Pain and hope of dreamy
One day light up coming with beauty
Descended moon though it disappear
Ascended life dreams in very clear
Gap of space is not so far near
Path through rainbow can visit here
Instant message or constant mail
Will give a surprise to cook tasty meal
Setting the table light up the candle
Finding the way and when rings the bell
Offer the key to open the room of my heart
Will see the picture hung on the wall of white
Touch up the untold secret poetic word
Open the window to come fresh wind
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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In My Room
There's a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now it's dark and I'm alone
But I won't be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room
Theres a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now its dark and Im alone
But I wont be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Magnolia
From a table across the room
She was signaling me with her eyes
I walked over to be introduced
I said hello, she just smiled
And said I know a place not too far from here
We cou ld get away for awhile
Yeah, thats when she kissed me and told me her name
I never did tell her mine
Magnolia
I remember the smell of the wind through the suite
Magnolia
And I know that shes out there somewhere in the world
Shes forgotten me but I remember her
Magnolia
Well her lips were as warm
As that wet southern night
Her eyes were as black as the sky
And I wondered aloud
Just what I done right
As I lay there with her by my side
T hen she took hold of my hand
As she looked up at me
And said now I must tell you good-bye
And there in the moonlight
As I watched her leave
I felt a chill down inside
Magnolia
I remember the smell of the wind through the s uite
Magnolia
And I know that shes out there somewhere in the world
Shes forgotten me but I remember her
Magnolia
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Room
'I'm home again, my dear old Room,
I'm home again, and happy, too,
As, peering through the brightening gloom,
I find myself alone with you:
Though brief my stay, nor far away,
I missed you--missed you night and day--
As wildly yearned for you as now.--
Old Room, how are you, anyhow?
'My easy chair, with open arms,
Awaits me just within the door;
The littered carpet's woven charms
Have never seemed so bright before,--
The old rosettes and mignonettes
And ivy-leaves and violets,
Look up as pure and fresh of hue
As though baptized in morning dew.
'Old Room, to me your homely walls
Fold round me like the arms of love,
And over all my being falls
A blessing pure as from above--
Even as a nestling child caressed
And lulled upon a loving breast,
With folded eyes, too glad to weep
And yet too sad for dreams or sleep.
'You've been so kind to me, old Room--
So patient in your tender care,
My drooping heart in fullest bloom
Has blossomed for you unaware;
And who but you had cared to woo
A heart so dark, and heavy, too,
As in the past you lifted mine
From out the shadow to the shine?
'For I was but a wayward boy
When first you gladly welcomed me
And taught me work was truer joy
Than rioting incessantly:
And thus the din that stormed within
The old guitar and violin
Has fallen in a fainter tone
And sweeter, for your sake alone.
'Though in my absence I have stood
In festal halls a favored guest,
I missed, in this old quietude,
My worthy work and worthy rest--
By _this_ I know that long ago
You loved me first, and told me so
In art's mute eloquence of speech
The voice of praise may never reach.
'For lips and eyes in truth's disguise
Confuse the faces of my friends,
Till old affection's fondest ties
I find unraveling at the ends;
But as I turn to you, and learn
To meet my griefs with less concern,
Your love seems all I have to keep
Me smiling lest I needs must weep.
'Yet I am happy, and would fain
Forget the world and all its woes;
So set me to my tasks again,
Old Room, and lull me to repose:
And as we glide adown the tide
Of dreams, forever side by side,
I'll hold your hands as lovers do
Their sweethearts' and talk love to you.'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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When I Turn Off The Living Room Light
Who cares if youre jewish,
And your breath smells of garlic,
And your nose is a shiny red light.
To me you are gorgeous,
And everythings right,
When I turn off the living room light.
Your clothes are old-fashioned,
Your knuckles are bony,
Your hair looks a terrible sight.
But I dont have to see you,
The way that you are,
When I turn off the living room light.
When I turn off the living room light.
I dont have to see you,
The way that you are,
When I turn off the living room light.
Well its not that you are ugly,
And Im not being cruel,
It helps me to relax, dear,
It helps to keep me cool.
Now I am not intending,
To make you feel ashamed,
Whats wrong in me pretending?
cause you cant help being plain.
Your nose may be bulbous,
Your face may be spotty,
Your skin may be wrinkled and tight.
But I dont want to see you,
The way that you are,
So I turn off the living room light.
We dont feel so ugly,
We dont feel so draggy,
We dont feel so twisted up tight.
And we dont feel as ugly as we really are,
When we turn off the living room light.
When we turn off the living room light.
We dont feel as ugly as we really are,
When we turn off the living room light.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Poodle
the white poodle rushes inside
the living room
this early morning when i
first open the door
for the air and light
to come in
as i stand by the window
to see the world again
it wags its tail
asking for a little attention
which i so willingly give
and then
with all affection it sits
near my feet
i put my hand on its head
and it rubs its head
warmly on my palm
as usual
we mark this day
with friendship
and then another day unfolds
like a bud blooming for happiness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salisbury
In the city of Salisbury, I was born
On a cold and snowy winter's morn.
Now I am living some miles away,
But I often take a trip there for a day.
Through its streets, I love to roam;
When I am there, it feels like home.
To the City, I still feel a connection;
For the City, I still feel much affection.
I love the City's great atmosphere;
The Cathedral bells, I love to hear.
Visitors flock from both near and far;
The towering Cathedral is its big star.
I love its mixture of old and new;
I love its style; its charming views.
It isn't a city which is run of the mill;
Its character, progress, has not killed.
To that City, I will always belong.
The bond between us is still strong.
In the city of Salisbury, my life did start;
I want to rest there when, this life, I depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Into My Own Privacy....
i do not wish that you become a part of me
like light to my room
i do not need any
i thrive in the comfort of my own darkness
with an option
whether to partake with light
or not
i am but a room with a little space
a small bed enough for my arms and legs
just enough
for my sleep,
i destroyed the ceiling
so i can see the
stars
i closed the windows and doors
so i cannot be
with anybody
i do not wish you to stay and be friendly
i like to enjoy how is it to be unfriendly
in some
moments where i cherish my own privacy
the silence of the paper in cohort with the pen
that romance with words and symbols
and in between thoughts, the precious solitude of
not being with anyone,
i am both the deserting and the deserted.
it's a certain stage and i want more of it
without all of you, i have this gift of thought.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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